Before Our Time

Is touch-typing relevant in the 'i' universe?

noreply@blogger.com (Megan) — Thu, 22 Dec 2011 22:00:00 +0000

You know, at one time there must’ve been dozens of companies making buggy whips. And I'll bet the last company around was the one that made the best goddamn buggy whip you ever saw. Now how would you have liked to have been a stockholder in that company? Other People’s Money (1991)

How do you know when a skill is becoming obsolete?

How many of you can touch-type? I don’t mean pecking around the keyboard whether fast or slow; I mean always keeping your index fingers hovered over the ‘home keys’, not looking at the keyboard and cracking out 60 to 90 words per minute using *the correct fingers*.

Touch typing emerged the the late 1880s as a classic before our time technology skill. The need for speed, it seems, led to the development of the QWERTY keyboard which laid out keys in a way that didn’t cause ‘finger jams’ in common English words and the development of a way of typing that increased speed, decreased movement and enabled the typist to say “look! No eyes!”. Classic ergonomic efficiency.

We’ve kept the QWERTY keyboard but most people I ask *say* they can touch-type but really they hunt and peck with one two or five fingers or get confused if they need to use anything other than their thumbs. Has the need for speed and efficiency really diminished over time?

At a recent meeting of middle-aged mothers (AKA bookgroup) we were tut-tutting the demise of proper touch-typing lessons. Why don’t schools teach touch typing? With a stick wrapping the knuckles of poor typists until they reach 60 words per minute? Oh, we had all tried the touch-typing computer programs. I even bought a Spongebob Squarepants version to entice my kids. But we all felt there was no substitution for sitting in front of an IBM Golfball typewriter with a dour lady calling out letters and covering our hands with a cloth.

I am a touch typist who suffered under the stick of a strict typing teacher. I proudly type FAST and earnt extra cash at uni typing up other people’s assignments. Over the past few weeks I consciously considered how much touch-typing I still did. I typed at work (emails, mostly, and the occasional report), home (again emails, mostly), on my phone (texting). The vast majority of my typing was short bursts on my phone or iPad with texting or facebook or quick email messages.

And then it hit me. I was consciously looking for opportunities to use my skill because most devices make in near impossible to touch-type.

Touch-typing is fine if in front of a computer like I am now but on a phone, tablet computer or anything with a non-tactile keyboard or too small to use anything but thumbs then touch-typing seems completely irrelevant. Thumb typing becomes a very important skill – especially being able to type an ‘m’ on a touch screen without deleting several previous letters (or is this only me?) – and a lot of the touch screens I use really only have room for 2-3 fingers at a time.

My 11yo son claims to have learnt touch-typing at school. It’s not touch-typing. I’m not sure what it is, but it is fast. Fast enough to punch out a message and turn off the computer/ipad/phone/video game before his mother can walk from one side of the room to the other to check what he is up to.

So is touch typing a critical skill that is not taught *properly* to our children, or is it an obsolete skill to be abandoned in favour of ergonomic thumb typing? Before you answer, spend some time examining your own typing world and that of your children. I certainly couldn’t find too many devices with the room for all 10 phalanges.

Wisdom on Wednesday: William Shakespeare

noreply@blogger.com (Alison) — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 01:21:00 +0000

Is Mr Shakespeare is right? Do we enjoy our holidays all the more because they are a contrast to our regular day-to-day life? This quote suggests that if we spent all year lazing around, taking long walks and enjoying relaxed, quality time with our family and friends, we'd soon bore of that.

Or would we? I'd like to give it a try.

www.beforeourtime.com will be taking a short break while I lap up some of the holiday spirit. I have a huge pile of books to read, a long list of movies to watch and I'm hoping there will be some of that elusive Melbourne warm weather to relish.

What are your plans for the holiday season?

Wisdom on Wednesday - Lao-Tzu

noreply@blogger.com (Alison) — Wed, 14 Dec 2011 00:46:00 +0000

At this time of year, I often find myself reflecting on the concept of 'enough'.

My children and I have spent the greater part of this week cleaning out their bedrooms. We've sorted through books, toys, games and clothing removing anything outgrown, worn-out or just not used.

It was interesting to me how much of the clothing and shoes was out-grown well before it wore out, even items that had been passed through two children. It has all been bagged up and will be given to a local op shop.

Before our time, in the Victorian era, children had very limited wardrobes. Even children of wealthy families would only own a couple of outfits. Pinafores would be worn over the top to prevent external staining, and a layer of undergarments protected the clothing from sweat. Shoes were an extremely expensive item and many poorer children went barefoot.

When children in developed countries nowadays often own so many clothing items that they outgrow rather than outwear them, I do wonder whether this is progress?

The ancient gift of shortbread

noreply@blogger.com (Alison) — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 19:00:00 +0000

In my experience, there is one present that is never put to the back of a cupboard, exchanged or re-gifted, and that is the gift of some home-made shortbread. Very few people can resist its sinful buttery crumble.

Shortbread it thought to have its origins before our time in medieval Scotland with a twice-baked biscuit bread made from left-over bread dough. This item was dusted with sugar and spices and hardened into a sweet biscuit. Over time butter was substituted for the yeast. This created the crumbly (short) texture we know and love!

Butter and sugar however, were expensive items and shortbread was only eaten in most households as a luxury on very special occasions such as Christmas, Hogmanay (New Year's Eve) or weddings.

Nowadays, in our kitchen, we use an ancient Scottish secret family recipe (i.e. I copied it out of my Mum's recipe folder). Details can be found here.

The basis for all shortbread is three ingredients: flour, butter and sugar (usually in the ratio of 1 part sugar, 2 parts butter, 3 parts flour). However, there are a number of different variations as you can see from this page in Lady Hackett's Household Guide (1940):

Plus a variety of flavourings can be added. According to an article by Camis Davis at Saveur.com, "Queen Victoria liked hers seasoned with salt; classic shortbread from the town of Goosnargh in Lancashire is flavored with coriander and caraway; shortbread from Pitcaithly, in Scotland, is made with orange peel and almonds; the Scottish baking company Walkers, founded in 1898, has a ginger version of it."

The shape is traditionally a round, often made by pressing the dough into a carved circular mold. This creates triangular wedges which can be snapped apart.

We take a less traditional approach to the shape - creating Christmas-themed shapes such as angels, bells, trees and stars. However, call us old-fashioned, when it comes to flavourings we stick to making the unadulterated version.

Bagged up with the addition of a ribbon and gift tag, they made the perfect small item for my daughter to give to her school friends.

How much do you love shortbread?

Wisdom on Wednesday: Theodore Geisel

noreply@blogger.com (Alison) — Wed, 07 Dec 2011 01:27:00 +0000

Following on from the theme of Wisdom on Wednesday last week, I think this Dr Seuss quote sums up many of our feelings at this time of the year!

In our household, the calendar seems to go: August - September - December. October and November may as well not exist as they flash past in an instant.

And then, when December arrives we suddenly realise that all the things that we had planned to do before December haven't been done!

I often wonder if this a universal feeling or one particular to the Southern hemisphere where everything (schools, dancing studios, sporting clubs etc) operates on a calendar year? Plus, here in Australia lots of families take holidays during January, so there is an impetus in the workplace to get things done before Christmas.

Does everything rush to the end of the calendar year in your part of the world?

Wisdom on Wednesday: EB White

noreply@blogger.com (Alison) — Wed, 30 Nov 2011 02:52:00 +0000

(Quote from The Second Tree from the Corner (1954) by E.B.White)

My daughter reminded me this morning that tomorrow (1 December) is the start of Advent, at least as far as the opening of countdown calendars for Christmas is concerned. I think, strictly speaking, that the various religious definitions of Advent are quite different, and it usually commences on the fourth Sunday before Christmas.

Anyway, in some respects this morning's declaration caught me by surprise: "What? Already?" and in other ways I've had a lot of warning. Shops have had Christmas goods on the shelves since early October, decorations have been hanging in public spaces for weeks, Christmas catalogues were in mailboxes at the start of November and I've even heard the carols muzak in stores.

I wonder if this extended warm-up to Christmas (the 'wrapping' referred to by E.B.White?) takes some of the gloss off the Festive Season itself. By the time the 25th of December comes around we've already eaten more than our fair share of fruit mince pies.

Before our time, Christmas wasn't anticipated quite so early in the year.

What do you think is a reasonable lead-up time for Christmas? Should there be declared limit? e.g NO tinsel before 1 December?

Blending in by standing out

noreply@blogger.com (Alison) — Sat, 26 Nov 2011 03:13:00 +0000

Back before our time towards the end of the 19th Century, military uniforms were traditionally brightly coloured. (Think bright red jackets worn by horsemen charging across green fields with their muskets at the ready.)

These distinctive forms of uniform had a number of strategic purposes: it allowed generals (or whoever was in charge) to see at a glance where their own troops were, it stopped soldiers from unintentionally slaying one of their own, and in certain cases where a particular regiment had a fearsome reputation, the mere sight of their distinctive colours could be enough to send terror through the enemy, forcing a retreat. (See an interesting history of military camouflage clothing, here.)

However time marched on, military technology improved, and with the development of weapons with longer ranges and greater accuracy (e.g. rifles, machine guns, grenades, missiles) it was not advantageous to signpost to the enemy exactly where you were.

So, what we now think of as regular army dress (khaki and camouflage) was developed as a way of disguising personnel in the field. The mottled colouration of garments is designed to blend with the natural background and it is available in a variety of colourways to blend with different environments.

However one instance where it would have the opposite effect is if you were to wear full camouflage gear and walk through a busy urban area. In fact, far from blending in, it would probably rouse a great deal of suspicion.

It is one of the ironies of the present day that one of the best ways to blend in, in almost any circumstance, is to don a garment which was originally designed to make you stand out - the high-visibility fluoro vest.

Fluorescent clothing was originally a military development (during World War II) designed to protect soldiers from unintentional friendly fire. Now, high-visibility clothing is worn by everyone from post delivery workers to road crew, cyclists to removalists. If you want to look like you have an 'official' reason to be somewhere, put on a fluoro vest and you can walk around unaccosted.

In an article in The Guardian in 2005, Jon Ronson examined this phenomenon:

"So maybe ubiquity is to blame. Or perhaps, as dazzling as high-visibility clothing is, even more compelling is the public's desire not to notice those people who scurry around at our feet, fixing holes, mending tracks, cleaning up after us. We trust them and we don't want to think about them. This is how Bryan Ferry's son Otis and the other fox hunting aficionados got into the House of Commons to disrupt a debate last year. They put on fluorescent jackets and told the first policeman they met that they were "going to inspect the electrics". The policeman shrugged and waved them on.

The surveillance specialist Peter Jenkins - who teaches private investigators how to follow people without being spotted - is a fan of the fluorescent jacket, too. He says that if you're observing a target in a rural environment, use hedges and ditches and trees. But if you want to be invisible in a city, just put on a fluorescent jacket and sit in the passenger seat of a transit van, or queue up at a telephone box. (Remember to turn off your mobile phone first.)"

I drove past a neighbour's house a few days ago where two guys wearing high-vis tops were filling an unmarked truck with furniture and effects from the house. They (the neighbours) may have actually been being robbed, but the wearing of the high-vis clothing reassured me that a legitimate house move was taking place.

But was this a fair assumption?

According to an item on the BBC website, thieves just this month targeted homes in an English housing estate while clean-up from a flood was occurring:

"Walsall Council leader Mike Bird said thieves had been spotted wearing high-visibility vests to blend in with council workers helping with the clear up."

We rarely give a second glance to 'fluoro-collar workers'. Add an ID on a lanyard round their necks and we'd never question their legitimacy.

But the flip side of this, is that we also don't notice those workers. They are, in fact, rendered invisible by their visibility and we don't necessarily see them as individuals doing a valued job.

UK photographer, Stephen Gill explored this concept in his 2005 book and exhibition, Invisible which contained photographs of all those people who, by the wearing of high-visibility clothing were rendered invisible to the general public. He was inspired by his own experience as a photographer. He had discovered that by wearing a fluoro vest he drew very little attention to himself when carrying a camera, far less than if he wasn't wearing one.

Do you notice the 'fluoro-collar' workers? Is it time for a new form of high-visibility?

Wisdom on Wednesday: Sydney J. Harris

noreply@blogger.com (Alison) — Mon, 21 Nov 2011 23:45:00 +0000

There's a reason the lead-up to Christmas is known as 'the silly season'.

There's the mad rush in lunch breaks, running around the shops getting all the Christmas shopping done in between impending deadlines at work, and a hectic schedule of social engagements.

And then if there are kids in the household, you do all of the above...and schedule in end-of-year concerts, and school cocktail parties, and gifts for teachers, and mailing letters off to Santa.

I'm constantly checking the notes on the fridge to see which child needs a plate of food for what function, what costumes are needed where and when, what parties are to be attended (both adults and kids)...my head spins.

The end result is that most adults just scrape themselves through to Christmas Day, collapsing into a semi-comatose state on the sofa after lunch.

The quote above is right...it's exactly at this time of year that you need to relax, but the trick is to squeeze in 'relaxation' time that delivers the maximum benefit in the minimum amount of time.

Although on the face of it, it doesn't sound 'relaxing', I find that a Zumba class can totally reset my frame of mind. It's a quick hour at the gym, and I feel so much better afterwards. But I know that for many people, that would not seem relaxing at all!

What's your relaxation activity of choice when you don't have time to relax?

TXT-SPK

noreply@blogger.com (Alison) — Fri, 18 Nov 2011 12:00:00 +0000

Watching today's teenagers communicate via on-line messaging or texting on their mobile phones is like being dropped behind enemy lines in a country where you don't speak the native tongue. You're not quite sure what they're saying, but you know they're probably discussing you, and that if you don't keep your wits about you, it could all turn quite ugly.

It can be a completely foreign language.

In teen-texting, spelling and grammar are tossed out the window, clarity is sacrificed in the quest for speed, and some words are appropriated for uses they were never intended for. Acronyms reign supreme.

It's almost a form of code. But is this a new phenomenon?

During World War II, before our time, defence personnel and their sweethearts used acronyms in correspondence.

According to an entry at everything2, the World War II acronyms developed as a way of expressing endearments with extreme brevity (e.g. for use in telegrams) or as a 'secret' language between the lovers. The words could be concealed in sentences, or written across the back of the envelope.

Although some of these examples are well-known now, I wonder if the parents of that generation (and the correspondence censors) were as much in the dark about the meaning of BURMA, SIAM and ENGLAND as today's parents are about PSOS or ROFLMAO?

Some of the less saucy World War II examples are:

ITALY: I trust and love you
HOLLAND: Hope our love lasts and never dies
SWALK: Sealed with a loving kiss

And my favourite (although a little racier):

NORWICH: 'Nickers off ready when I come home

The now widely used acronyms SNAFU and FUBAR are also thought to have had their origins among American military personnel in the Second World War.

But the fun didn't stop with the Silent Generation. The Baby Boomers and their Generation X children have (among a multitude of other language tweaking practices) created a treasure-trove of acronyms to describe demographics and lifestyle choices:

DINKS: Double income, no kids
YUPPIES: Young upwardly-mobile professionals
LOMBARD: Lots of money but a real dickhead

And the one which always makes me LOL (laugh out loud):

SITCOM: Single income, two children, outrageous mortgage

The corporate world has also weighed in with examples such as:

SMART goals: Specific, measurable, agreed, realistic, time-bound goals
SWOT analysis: Strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, threats analysis

Imagine these in context:

Q: Where's Bruce?
A: He's in the stationery cupboard, doing a SWOT on the supplies situation. He plans to set some SMARTS regarding paperclips, envelopes and fluoro marker pens.

Most acronyms seem to have originated with the Brits or the Americans, however I did come across one which the good people at BBC' s h2g2 attributed to Australian origins. We Aussies have the dubious honour of coming up with the following acronym to describe someone with an elevated opinion of him/herself:

FIGJAM: F*** I'm good, just ask me

Is coded language used in your world?

Wisdom on Wednesday: Eudora Welty

noreply@blogger.com (Alison) — Wed, 16 Nov 2011 02:54:00 +0000

Way back in the dark ages when I was at university, (not quite before our time, but in the next postcode) I spent three months in the United Kingdom on an extended holiday.

I have a thick photo album from that time - one of those horrible ones where you stick the photos to the pages and then smooth the clear plastic back over them. It contains around 250 photos and I often get it out and flick through the pages.

A single photo of two of my friends in a pub in Oxford reminds me of the day we all met up there from our various, separate travels. Three photos of Stonehenge prompt memories of the day I spent there with my Aunt and Uncle, and how it was the winter solstice (one of the only days of the year you were allowed to go right into the stones).

For three months, 250 photos is not a huge number of snapshots but, like the quote above says, they captured enough of the experience to lock it into my memory, ready to be triggered when I view the album.

Fast-forward 20-something years and I returned from a recent (three week) holiday with over 3,000 photos. Digital camera technology has made it just too easy to photograph every place, every occasion, every person from every angle imaginable.

But does that 'stop the moment running away'? Or is, in fact, the moment running away before we even realise it is there, as we're too focused on the digital screen?

Sometimes I have to remind myself to put.down.the.camera and experience what is right there in front of me.

Is life what happens when you're not looking through the viewfinder?

Tips from the archives: Boiling an egg

noreply@blogger.com (Alison) — Sun, 13 Nov 2011 12:30:00 +0000

"Have ready a saucepan of boiling water; put the eggs into it gently with a spoon, letting the spoon touch the bottom of the saucepan before it is withdrawn, that the egg may not fall, and consequently crack. For those who like eggs lightly boiled, 3 minutes will be found sufficient; 3 3/4 to 4 minutes will be ample time to set the white nicely; and, if liked hard, 6 to 7 minutes will not be found too long."

Mrs Beeton's Household Management by

Isabella Beeton. First published 1861

Everyone knows how to boil an egg, right?

Right?

Apparently, not.

I'd always assumed there was just one way to boil an egg, and that was my way. But watching my husband boil eggs this morning, I realised he uses a completely different method.

So I consulted the oracle of domesticity, Mrs Beeton, and it seems she sides with him. While I had been labouring under the misapprehension that eggs were placed into cold water and then brought to the boil before starting the timer, Mrs Beeton and my husband put the eggs into water that is already boiling.

What do you think? Start from cold, or drop into boiling?

The Triangle of Happiness

noreply@blogger.com (Alison) — Thu, 10 Nov 2011 19:00:00 +0000

In the late 18th Century, before our time, my ancestors mostly lived in small villages across Scotland. They would have worked within walking distance of their homes and shopped for anything they didn't grow or produce themselves at the local village shops.

Their work/sleep/shop triangle would have been very small and therefore, according to Robert D. Putnam, author of Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community (2000) they were happier than if they had a large triangle between those points.

Putnam, who is a Harvard political scientist and Professor of Public Policy, is credited with the 'Triangle of Happiness' theory.

Putnam likes to imagine that there is a triangle, its points comprising where you sleep, where you work, and where you shop. In a canonical English village, or in a university town, the sides of that triangle are very short: a five-minute walk from one point to the next. In many American cities, you can spend an hour or two travelling each side. “You live in Pasadena, work in North Hollywood, shop in the Valley,” Putnam said. “Where is your community?” The smaller the triangle, the happier the human, as long as there is social interaction to be had. In that kind of life, you have a small refrigerator, because you can get to the store quickly and often. By this logic, the bigger the refrigerator, the lonelier the soul.

'There and Back Again.The soul of the commuter' by Nick Paumgarten. New Yorker, April 16 2007

Putnam points out however, that a small triangle equals a happier human only when social interaction is also involved. Reducing your triangle to one of working from your bedroom and ordering all the groceries on-line for delivery would be counter-productive to your happiness!

My local shops are walking distance, but getting to and from my workplace and my kids' school (and their various after-school activities) requires the car. Some days my life as a chauffeur looks more like the Oblong of Exasperation than the Triangle of Happiness, but that is the reality of the life we have chosen to lead, and the key is to minimise the angst of the time spent in the car.

I've tried a number of ways of making time in the car productive - listening to audio books, brushing up on a foreign language using audio programs and if the children are in the car, using the time to talk about their days. The most enjoyable activity when it's just me however, is to ensure the car radio is on a quality (usually ABC) talk radio station so that my time in the car is informative and/or entertaining.

My 'commute' is under 10 kilometres, which is not much at all. However, a recent Federal Government report Population Growth, Jobs Growth and Commuting Flows in Melbourne, predicted ''an increase in journeys to work involving a road distance of more than 30 kilometres and an increase in the average commuting distance'' as the city is expected to add another million residents by 2025.

That's a really large Triangle of Happiness/Unhappiness for a significant proportion of our city's population, and the challenge ahead will be to try to create more jobs on the outskirts of the city - thereby reducing the size of those triangles.

What geometric shape is your work/sleep/shop life in?

Wisdom on Wednesday: Samuel Ullman

noreply@blogger.com (Alison) — Tue, 08 Nov 2011 19:00:00 +0000

Ten random tips to foster enthusiasm

Make time for friends and family
Challenge your brain
Always have a project on the go
Switch around your exercise routine
Recognise and celebrate milestones, however small
Have future plans to look forward to
Learn new skills
Join an organisation or group
Create and maintain family traditions
Find ways to help others

What tips would you add?

Tips from the archives: Handling good china

noreply@blogger.com (Alison) — Sat, 05 Nov 2011 19:00:00 +0000

"Always allow good china to cool after being washed in hot water and before stacking the pieces together. Prevents glaze from cracking."

The New Idea, 7 October 1959, p.44

The glazes used on everyday crockery now are a lot more durable than those from before our time, but reading this tip from the archives made me wonder whether there are some 'rules' that apply to putting china into the dishwasher today.

I checked our dishwasher manual, and it says that most modern china patterns are dishwasher safe. As most dishwashers operate with water heated to somewhere between 40 and 70 degrees C, modern crockery is designed to withstand the heating and cooling without damage. Heating the water to these levels helps to dissolve the stains and also disinfects the dishes.

However, the manual also states that antique items, hand-painted china, items with patterns painted over the glaze or ones with gold rims, may be more sensitive to machine washing, and that if there is any doubt to wash them by hand.

Interestingly, the manual also says not to empty the dishwasher immediately after washing. It recommends opening the door slightly to allow steam to escape and waiting until the dishes are warm to the touch before unloading. In a modern day update to today's tip from the archives, this is not to save the glaze from cracking, but to ensure that the dishes are dried properly.

Do you have any china-handling habits to share?

Wisdom on Wednesday: Eleanor Roosevelt

noreply@blogger.com (Alison) — Tue, 01 Nov 2011 19:00:00 +0000

Is this right?

Was it perhaps more true of women in Eleanor Roosevelt's time when it wasn't always so usual for women to display their strength publicly?

I do know several women who, in dealing with adversity in their lives, have shown incredible dignity and strength of character, but then I also know some women who show their strength every day, not just in times of crisis.

What do you think?

Good things come to those who wait

noreply@blogger.com (Alison) — Sat, 29 Oct 2011 06:48:00 +0000

There's a school of thought that we do our children a disservice if we don't teach them to wait for things.

Citing the famous Stanford Marshmallow Experiment, Michael Grose (an Australian leading parent educator, parent coach, writer and speaker on parenting and family matters) suggested in one of his blog posts that it's important, "to encourage your children to delay gratification, practise self-discipline and build character along the way."

The Stanford Marshmallow Experiment was conducted by a psychologist called Walter Mischel in the late 1960s. Pre-schoolers were given a marshmallow and told they could have it, but if they waited 20 minutes they could have both the first marshmallow, and a second marshmallow. About two-thirds of the kids either ate the first marshmallow straight away, or tried to resist, but gave in within the 20 minutes. The remaining third waited the full time and got their two marshmallows. Many years later Mischel followed up his subjects, who were then in high school, and discovered, among other things, that the children from the first group had experienced more behavioural problems at school and home, had attained lower SAT scores than the second group and had struggled more with friendships.

Mischel's conclusion based on hours of observations was that the delayed gratification kids possessed coping techniques to use with their 'hot emotion' (i.e the desire for the marshmallow) such as distracting themselves from the object of desire, which they then applied to other stressful situations in their lives.

However, in the interesting article in The New Yorker magazine about this topic, Mischel acknowledges that the challenge is to turn some of those tricks into habits.

“This is where your parents are important,” Mischel says. “Have they established rituals that force you to delay on a daily basis? Do they encourage you to wait? And do they make waiting worthwhile?”

So let's just say that's what we've been doing here at beforeourtime.com. We've been encouraging you to wait...

and wait...

...for us to start posting again.

And now we're very pleased to announce that we intend to make the waiting worthwhile.

Not only have we given the blog a bit of a makeover, we also have an interesting and thought-provoking line-up of posts to come. There will be:

Our usual erudite and informative posts examining aspects of life pre-1970 and ascertaining their relevance (or not!) to our 21st Century lives
'Wisdom on Wednesday' - wise words from the past
'Tips from the Archives' (every Sunday) - hints and tips for everything from stain removal, pest control and food storage to etiquette, relationships and time management
Plus posts examining the changes in corporate life since 1970...for better or worse?

We're very excited to be back on deck and look forward to you joining us for the journey. Check the sidebar on the right for all the ways you can follow us (Google Friends, Twitter, email...) or just stop by the blog the old-fashioned way by typing beforeourtime.com into the address bar of your browser. If you're a Facebook user, you can 'Like' us by searching for the 'Before Our Time' page, and you'll be notified of any new posts in your News Feed.

For those of you visiting Before Our Time for the first time - welcome! Please, browse through some of our past posts.

So, are you pleased we made you wait?

Quinces re-heated

noreply@blogger.com (Alison) — Sat, 07 May 2011 00:31:00 +0000

As it is annual quince-paste-making day in our household, I thought I'd re-heat an old post! Enjoy.

"QUINCE PASTE If the full flavour of the quinces be desired, stew them sufficiently tender to press through a sieve in the prepared juice of page 456; otherwise in just water enough to about three parts cover them; when they are soft quite through lift them out, let them cool and then pass them through a sieve; reduce them to a dry paste over a very clear fire and stir them constantly; then weigh the fruit and mix it with an equal proportion of pounded sugar or sugar boiled to candy height, we find the effect nearly the same whichever method be pursued and stir the paste without intermission until it is again so dry as to quit the pan and adhere to the spoon in one large ball; press it into shallow pans or dishes; cut it as soon as cold into small squares and should they seem to require it, dry them with a very gentle degree of heat, and when they are again cold store them in tin cases with well dried foolscap paper between them: the paste may be moulded when more convenient and kept until it is wanted for table in a very dry place. In France where the fruit is admirably confected the pate de coigns or quince paste is somewhat less boiled than we have directed and dried afterwards in the sun or in an extremely gentle oven in square tin frames about an inch and a half deep placed upon clean slates"

Modern cookery for private families reduced to a system of easy practice, in a series of carefully tested receipts, in which the principles of Baron Liebig and other eminent writers have been as much as possible applied and explained By Eliza Acton, Published by Longman, Green, Longman, Roberts, and Green, 1864 (via Google books)

There's been a lot of talk lately about eating local foods, and eating them seasonally. And when you do so, it creates a certain rhythm to the year: berry desserts in summer, root vegetable stews in winter, fresh shelled peas in spring.

However, the canny cook from before our time also knew that there was a rhythm to the pickling, bottling and preserving of these foods, which allowed variety on the dinner table all year round.

Tomato-sauce-making-day for instance, continues to be a tradition among some Italo-Australian families I know. Held towards the end of the summer when the tomatoes are cheap and plentiful, a day of chopping and boiling in the company of friends and family creates a store of pasta sauce to carry the family through the year ahead.

In my own family home, I remember the citrus season was marked by a day of chopping and peeling to make jars and jars of marmalade which would be consumed on toast throughout the year and also given as gifts to the less citricly-endowed (yes, I know citricly is not really a word...just indulge me.)

At this time of year in Southern Australia, the rhythm of seasonality dictates that it is quince paste making time.

This is the second year that I have made quince paste. Last year's didn't quite set like it should have, but I now have a legion of fans for my legendary "quince jam". In fact, one friend who I have given several containers to has begged that I make it in exactly the same way this year. If only it were that simple. She seems to think I have some control over the process!

Megan has already posted about her quince paste making experiences and I use the same basic recipe that she did.

One of the great delights of making quince-paste on a cold early winter's afternoon is that it gives you an excuse to loiter around the house. Oh no, I can't go out...I have to stir my quince paste. And the reward for judicious stirring is watching the fruit turn from a light flesh to a deep red colour. Made to perfection it should be as glossy and reflective as rubies.

There is a certain magic in turning a couple of kilos of furry fruit into a delicious dark treat to be enjoyed with cheese the year round, and given to friends as gifts.

What seasonal food preparation days mark your yearly calendar?

Colour my world

noreply@blogger.com (Alison) — Fri, 20 Aug 2010 02:20:00 +0000

"Soon temperate palettes were considered to reflect the 'drab' war years and these pastel hues were replaced by an explosion of colour and texture, inspired by the strong primary colours synonymous with the Modernist movement. By the late 1950s a colour revolution was beginning to affect conventional interiors, and two, three or four bold colours might be used in one room. These colours were coordinated with decorative plastic laminates and linoleum floors to compose a 'Harlequin' effect."

History of Paint in Australia

compiled by Kelly Wynne, Deakin University Student, October 2008

on Museum Victoria website.

The colours we choose to surround ourselves with say a lot about the mood of the environment. During the post-war period mentioned in the quote above, brighter colours were introduced to interiors reflecting the new-found optimism of a world rebuilding itself following the austerity of the war years.

Originally however, wall paint colours and textile colours were determined more by the availability of the materials with which to create each hue. In the Victorian era in Australia for instance, paint colours were limited to the those that could be created by the pigments which were imported. These pigments included green copper hydroxide, red and yellow oxides and Prussian blue.

Once technologies and global transport links developed, larger colour ranges were possible. How about the coloured bathroom suites you often see in homes dating from the 1920s onwards? Pastel pinks, blues and greens were fashionable - with the toilet, hand basin and bath all matching.

And then there was the 1970s when paint colours were bright, as were the laminexes in kitchens. Bathrooms surfaces, tiles and suites came in a range of colours (often oranges, greens and blues). Rooms were often decorated independently of each other with bright wallpapers covering every wall.

So it is interesting to observe when flicking through home magazines that today, we seem to have swung very much back onto neutral ground. Walls tend to be painted predominately in neutral lighter shades, with perhaps a feature wall or two of a brighter colour. Bathrooms suites are almost uniformly white.

In my own lifetime of home ownership we've done a complete decorating 360 degrees. Our first house back in the early 1990s was a tiny Victorian inner-city cottage, so in an effort to make it seem larger and brighter, we repainted all the (previously pink) walls with a vivid white, and replaced the carpet with a light sand-coloured one.

Our next two homes were the reverse. We bought homes decorated with neutral colour schemes and repainted with a riot of colour. The living rooms were bright yellow, one kitchen ended up lime green, and we had pumpkin coloured bedrooms.

Latterly, however, we've gone full circle and have painted the complete interiors of houses in a shade of white. I don't think we're alone in this choice. Paint manufacturer Dulux has a specific brochure (the Whites booklet ) purely for its range of white paint. There are 24 different Dulux white paints with names like; Chalk USA, Antique White, Hogs' Bristle, Lexicon, Magnolia and Crewelwork. (I love this last name, as painting a house is indeed cruel work...there's nothing like the name on the paint can reminding you as you do the job!)

And when it comes time to renovate our bathrooms in our current house, we'll definitely be choosing bathroom suites in white - not that there is much other choice in bathroom showrooms.

I wonder what this preference for neutrality says about us, and indeed our times?

What colour is your world?

Who is responsible for feeding our kids?

noreply@blogger.com (Alison) — Wed, 28 Jul 2010 04:24:00 +0000

I've been watching Jamie Oliver's TV series filmed in the USA, Jamie's Food Revolution with a degree of interest. I call shows like this (and its UK-based predecessors, Jamie's School Dinners and Jamie's Ministry of Food) car-crash television: some of the scenes are so horrific, you can't help but watch them.

Jamie's message on the Food Revolution website says:

This food revolution is about saving America's health by changing the way you eat. It's not just a TV show, it's a movement for you, your family and your community. If you care about your kids and their future take this revolution and make it your own. Educate yourself about food and cooking. Find out what your child is eating at school. Make only a few small changes and magical things will happen. Switching from processed to fresh food will not only make you feel better but it will add years to your life.

In this series Jamie heads to Huntington, West Virginia - which has been called the unhealthiest city in America - to start his new cooking initiative. He aims to combat obesity, heart disease and diabetes by challenging the way the people are eating and he hopes to use Huntington as the spark to initiate positive change across the United States.

I've only watched two episodes so far, but I was especially shocked by the meals that were being served up to young children in the school cafeteria in the first school he visited in Huntington, and I remember being similarly shocked when I watched the UK version, Jamie's School Dinners.

While the meals may technically tick all the boxes with regards to Government nutrition guidelines, I would hate to think my children were being dished up processed, frozen and reheated pizza for breakfast, or chicken nuggets for lunch (washed down by flavoured milk).

Have a look at the (top) photo of a school meal that meets that US Federal guidelines here.

Or how about this promo video which shows some of the processed foods Jamie found in the school kitchen freezer?

Whether it was by design or default (I don't know, perhaps someone may be able to enlighten me) I think one of the cleverest choices Australia made before our time, was not to provide Government-subsidised school lunches. I suspect that when a Government delivers food, cost-cutting and efficiencies become paramount. In addition, parents lose some of the accountability of choosing what their children eat.

Australia has a strong culture of 'packed lunches'. Each child brings his or her own lunch to school, or selects and pays for his or her own from a school canteen (which doesn't always offer great food options, but that's another story). This places the total responsibility for that child's nutrition firmly back in the family fold. It doesn't mean parents always make great choices either, but at least we don't have to battle an institution and Government to ensure our children eat what we want them to. (We just have to battle stubborn children!)

On the other hand, the provision of subsidised meals can offer a guarantee that children are getting at least one meal a day which will be filling and will meet some nutrition guidelines, as not all children are fortunate enough to be well-fed at home.

What do you think? I'd be interested to hear the school-lunch experiences of readers in other parts of the world.

Business Unwired

noreply@blogger.com (Megan) — Sat, 12 Jun 2010 05:40:00 +0000

Last night I watched a program on the design of the Sony Walkman. You know, the original one from 1979. The iPod in tape form. There started the marvellous slippery slope to wired teenagers, of which I was one.

But we need to go way back further than than the Walkman if we wish to apportion blame. When Thomas Edison was a boy one would have to hoick oneself to the town square to hear the latest in music, bang away at one’s own piano or perhaps one would attend a musical soiree at a well-to-do neighbour’s house. Then Thomas found a way to record this music. No longer would we have to schlep to the town square on a cold winter’s night because the music could come to us. A marvellous thing.

A pity he didn’t foresee that his innocuous invention would result in teens all over the world coming to the dinner table wired for sound. It’s one thing to have your teen grunt at you in reply to a question; it is quite another thing for her to not even realise you’ve asked something. It’s enough to make you grab your own iPod and eat quietly to the life soundtrack of your choice.

In 2008 our family unwired and gave up screens of any kind for a week, during the winter school holidays, and found that it was a remarkably easy thing to do. The kids got to taste was boredom was like and like Dante’s Inferno they entered the nine circles of hell to emerge the other side having known themselves a little better.

And now I have business in my sights.

Returning to a corporate office after five years living and working from home I was shocked at how technology had seemed to contribute to the stress and workload of my colleagues. On my first day I was presented with a BlackBerry® and a lap-top. Welcome to the 24/7 workday.

When I last went to a corporate meeting people would turn up with a pad of paper and a pen. Now everyone had a laptop open and their BlackBerry® at their fingertips. No-one was interested in the speaker because they were either completing their upcoming presentation, checking their emails or working on something completely unrelated to the meeting at hand. Sometimes all three.

Ideas didn’t seem to carry weight unless supported by a PowerPoint presentation and far from reducing printing costs they seem to have increased with everyone simultaneously reading the PowerPoint presentation on the screen and writing notes on the colour print-out made earlier. The notes may or may not have been connected to the presentation – more likely to be a list of emails to be sent during the meeting.

With so many employees crying out that they are worked to the bone I can see why. They are connected 24/7 and if they mistakenly respond to an email at 10pm then they’ve opened the floodgates of expectation.

When I studied organisational communication we were taught that organisations talk themselves into being. In the past this talk was in the hands of an inter-office memo, a report or a speech from the CEO. Now it is in the hands of anyone with access to email.

In an effort to control the 24/7 exhaustion of the workplace Sony executives recently agreed that it was reasonable for the leadership team to respond to emails and phone calls in an 8am-8pm timeframe. After that your time was your own. In another company one senior leader decided that each evening to think of the 2-3 critical things he had to resolve the next day and devote 90 minutes to doing so the next morning before he turned on his electronic media.

You know technology has done a lot of good and a lot of bad. We both know it. These companies have taken a great step. But I think we need to make a corporate statement. I’d like to start a low-technology week where businesses agree to go old school and communicate by phone, in person and with the pen. Bring back the inter-office memo for a week, send a letter, ring your colleague or supplier instead of shooting off an email and *gasp* turn up to a meeting with nothing more than your voice, a pad and a pen (the purpose being to actually discuss and resolve something).

My bet is that despite an early shock the result would be a week of bliss. Exempt from the expectation of the 35 slide PowerPoint and the 24 second reply employees, customers and suppliers might actually speak with one another and those rubbish emails which have no point will simply not.be.sent. If you don’t think it is possible think back to your office circa 1992. You did it then, and other than having to warn your external customers (and encourage them to join with you) you know it would be possible.

Anyone with me?

*all power to Dilbert's mate Mr Adams, Sony, Thomas E and the person who came up with the BlackBerry cartoon. It is to them that you should direct your thanks for their images (Thomas E may be a little hard to get hold of).

The art of small talk

noreply@blogger.com (Alison) — Wed, 26 May 2010 03:19:00 +0000

SMALL TALK
It is no easy matter to talk well. A man may read many books, and have a tenacious memory, and a sound judgment, and no small portion of critical acumen. He may express his thoughts in elegant language; he may season his discourse with wit, and be a living lexicon, and a walking encyclopedia; and yet, after all, be but a dull every-day companion. All the world don't read books; and all who do read, do not care about them; but every body loves to talk. There is something very pleasant in hearing the sound of one's own voice; and when we are wearied with toil, or tired with thought, we love to chat, to set the tongue in motion, to relieve the sense of weariness.

A Manual of Politeness, comprising the principles of etiquette, and rules of behaviour in genteel society, for persons of both sexes. 1837, published by WM Marshall & Co, Philadelphia (via google books).

We all know those people among our circles who are natural raconteurs; the ones who can describe a trip to the supermarket in such a way that we feel disappointed we weren't there with them. Often they will regale people they have just met with such tales.

But small talk doesn't come easy to us all.

The Manual of Politeness goes on to offer the following observation:

The mistake is common, though not for that reason less a mistake, to imagine that it is the easiest matter in the world to talk about nothing, or every-day occurrences: it requires an active mind, an observant mind, and no small share of that invaluable, unpurchasable, and unlearnable quality, good humour, to say something on every thing to any body. It has been sometimes noticed, as a remarkable and amiable trait in the characters of some men, of very superior minds, that they have been able and willing to make themselves agreeable to children; and not unfrequently has it been observed of great monarchs, that they had something to say to every body.

And perhaps that is the key? The art of small talk lies in being comfortable talking to anyone at any time. But how do we learn this skill?

With two girls in my household, there is usually no end to the chatter, but I was interested to hear the Principal of my youngest daughter's school outline that the school has a 'method' for teaching the children to be confident in interacting with others, particularly adults. They must:

look the person in the eye
respond to the greeting, and if it included a question, answer it with more than a 'yes' or 'no', and most importantly,
follow up with a question of their own.

So a conversation with a teacher in the morning may go along the lines of:

Teacher: Hello Jessica! Did you have a good weekend?
Jessica: I did Mrs Teacher, I went to stay at my grandparents.
What did you do on the weekend?

And there you go, it's Conversation 101 for six year olds. The Principal went on to say that after a while, the students aim to be the initiator of any interaction so that they get 'their' questions in first!

Listening to older students interacting with their parents, I suspect those lessons may need to be re-learned. One-word answers seem to be the go with many young teens, and I don't know if it is shyness or disinterest, but I find few who initiate a conversation with an adult they don't know well.

Perhaps it is a lack of a shared knowledge and interests?

The Manual of Politeness says, "Let but the topics of the day be known, the last novel, or picture, or public singer, and all the conversation may be anticipated," but when you have to ask your fellow conversation-er for an explanation of exactly who Justin Beiber is, it is clear there are no longer universal "topics of the day".

Safe small talk topics here in Melbourne once included the football, free-to-air TV and the top stories in that day's Age. With a diversifying population those topics are no longer (if they ever were) known to all. Some people in this fair city don't even follow AFL football (I know! Shock!), television is delivered via a multitude of free-to-air and pay-TV channels and people obtain their news from a variety of mainstream and online media. We can't make assumptions, particularly in meeting strangers.

So how do we strike up those conversations? What are your sure-fire topics to get the ball rolling, or tips that help with the art of small talk?

How's it hanging?

noreply@blogger.com (Alison) — Fri, 16 Apr 2010 02:37:00 +0000

photo from Wikimedia

90. Hanging Clothes to Dry.—To some it might seem that the laundry work is practically done when clothes are ready to be hung on the line; but the next step has some very important features, the oversight of which might make necessary the rewashing of articles.

One of the chief virtues of proper drying of clothes is the effect that sun and air have on them. When clothes are hung on the line quite wet, almost dripping in fact, the combined action of sun and air is one of the best bleaches known. It is because of this that white clothes should be hung, when possible, out-of-doors, and that colored clothes should be hung in the shade or indoors.

91. To save time in the sorting of articles for ironing, hang all garments of a kind together. Then, to have the clothes dry in the best possible condition, keep in mind the following general directions:

Be sure that the clothes-line and pins are perfectly clean.
Shake things out well and turn outer garments, if they have not already been turned, wrong side out.
Hang large pieces, such as sheets and table-cloths, on a straight thread of the material, one-fourth or one-half of each over the line, and fasten with four or five clothes-pins. Sheets may be doubled crosswise, so that the upper and lower hems meet, and pinned to the line by the hems, to minimize the danger of hems being torn by the wind.
Fold flat pieces as they are taken off the line, as then they will be easier to iron.
Take starched clothes from the line as soon as they are dry, as long hanging will cause them to lose their stiffness and make them more difficult to iron. Also, as a brisk wind will take out the starch, be sure to make it rather heavy on windy days.

from Laundering and Dry Cleaning, Woman's Institute of Domestic Arts & Sciences, by Mary Brooks Picken (1931) The original web version of this work can be found at www.VintageSewing.info

We're big fans of line-drying here at Before Our Time. You may remember Megan's earlier post about incorporating ideas about air-drying of clothes into a planned renovation.

But who knew that the act of line-drying itself could be so contentious?

When my husband and I hang washing out together, there is a running commentary on the failings of each other's methods of hanging. I like to hang shirts from the bottom, he likes to put them on coathangers...I pair up socks before pegging them, he hangs them how they come out of the basket. And if you add my oldest daughter into the equation...well! Then you get a method which seems to involve tossing the item over the line and pinning it however it lands.

So I was interested to see the guide at bbb.co.uk's h2g2 site about how to hang clothing correctly.

In summary, some of the content covered is:

Pegging - forehand or backhand? Traditional (2 pegs per item) or linking (shared pegs between items)?Old-style wooden or plastic?

Upside-down or right-way up?

Right-way out, or inside-out to prevent fading?

Work from the inside of the line to the outside, small items to large?

Perhaps you can tell a lot about someone by how they organise their washing line?

I like to match items up as I hang, - pyjama bottoms with tops, socks paired, sports uniforms together. Not because I'm particularly anal, just because it saves time later when I bring the washing in and fold it - and that is a task I dislike more than the hanging out.

And I tend to hang all the large items first and leave the underwear and socks until the end. I figure I can always find room on a rack for those items if I run out of space, but it's harder to find space for a bedsheet.

If I have items that are stained with pasta sauce (which is a reasonably frequent occurrence with one smallish child) I try to find a space on the line which is in full sun, as that exposure causes the stain to miraculously disappear.

My methods have been adopted over time through trial and error combined with family tradition, but I'm wondering whether there is a more definitive method from before our time, that I should have learnt?

How do you hang?

Oz Day

noreply@blogger.com (Alison) — Tue, 26 Jan 2010 00:10:00 +0000

"On Australia Day we come together as a nation to celebrate what's great about Australia and being Australian. It's the day to reflect on what we have achieved and what we can be proud of in our great nation. It's the day for us to re-commit to making Australia an even better place for the future."

from the Australia Day website

On 26 January 1788, well before our time, Captain Arthur Phillip, commander of the First Fleet of eleven convict ships that had sailed from England, arrived at Sydney Cove.

This is the significance of the date of Australia Day, but the tradition of celebrating Australia Day as a national holiday on 26 January is a fairly recent one. It was 1935 before all Australian states and territories used that name for the day, and it was 1994 before Australia Day was recognised consistently across the nation as a public holiday on that date*.

Personally, I've always felt somewhat conflicted about the choice of this date for a national day of celebration. While yes, it marks the beginnings of our modern nation...it also represents for the Indigenous population the day from which they watched with shock and bewilderment as an invading population forced them off their traditional lands, introduced fatal diseases, and changed their way of life forever.

However, in today's Australia I hope we can look at Australia Day as a day on which to reflect on the society we have become, to imagine the society we want to be and to learn from our past, both good and bad.

Practically, what does Australia Day mean to Australians?

It is a public holiday, and Australians love a day off! As it is celebrated on the day it falls, if it falls on a Tuesday or Thursday it generally means an increase in workplace absenteeism on the Monday or Friday to create a long-long weekend.

It's a day when citizenship ceremonies are held around the country, and 'Australian of the Year' awards are made in local communities.

In recent times, I've noticed an increasing trend to associate Australia Day with barbecues, (encouraged by some clever marketing by meat marketing boards).

For me, I've always seen it as a turning-point day: it marks the end of the summer holidays. Families return from their holidays, schools go back for a new year within days of Australia Day, workplaces swing back into high gear, school books are covered, uniforms are labelled, thongs are kicked off and proper shoes are back on feet.

Australia Day is the last hurrah of the laid back summer for those who take their annual leave then.

What does Australia Day mean to you? Do other countries celebrate similar days?

*see here for a full history of Australia Day

Happy Slow Year!

noreply@blogger.com (Alison) — Fri, 01 Jan 2010 00:32:00 +0000

Time rage comes from an insidious mix of ego (my desires and my needs) and the demands of time (I have to get an answer immediately or I need to get this piece of information ASAP). Just as it is on our roads with car rage and even cyclist rage — get in my way and you will pay!

Instant communication can have its real pluses: knowing where our partners, friends and children are can be very reassuring. But wanting to know where they are all the time may just be fuelling, rather than dampening, our anxieties. Did Marco Polo's mum fret because he didn't text every day?

Rob Moodie* "Time to usher out the fast and the furious"
in The Age, 1-2 Jan 2010

It's the first day of the new year and the new decade. (Is it the tensies? the teenies? the onesies?...there needs to be a UN think tank working on the label we will give this awkward period between the noughties and the twenties.)

The noughties are a decade synonymous with an explosion in personal connectivity. Mobile smart phones, wireless connection, Twitter, Facebook, My Space, messaging, personal GPS...the ways to keep track of ourselves and our colleagues, family and friends are endless.

Perhaps this new decade is a time to re-evaluate our obsession with this connectivity?

Rob Moodie's column in The Age this morning struck a chord with me. Go read the entire piece. I particularly liked the line about Marco Polo's mum.

Before our time, the ways of communicating with people not within our immediate vicinity were, if not limited, infinitely slower than they are today.

Handwritten letters took the slow boat to China. Costly long distance phone calls were booked in advance and connected via an operator. Copies of photos taken at family events were made by leaving the negatives at the local pharmacy and prints were collected days later and mailed to the intended recipients.

Nowadays, an email can be received and replied to on a mobile phone that is in a beach bag, while you sit on the sand. Phone calls can be made across the world and timezones at low cost via Skype or VOIP. Photos can be uploaded and emailed around the world practically while the event is still continuing. Family across the country can have a pic of junior blowing out the candles saved as a desktop background before the smoke has actually cleared.

But does all this connectivity make life simpler?

The times I log into Facebook, my head spins with the activities of all my 'friends'. I feel guilty if I haven't replied to message or a missed call on my mobile phone within a short time. My inbox overflows with emails I have flagged to respond to, or that contain something I have to add to my 'to-do' list.

As Rob Moodie says, "We are tyrannised by the to-do list, and also by the to-worry-about list and the to-feel-guilty-about list. As our inboxes overload and our lists expand, we get more irritable and more anxious".

And the most insidious aspect of all this connectivity is that it has blurred the distinction between leisure and work time. Never again will corporate workers be able to 'leave work' at the end of the day.

All of which means that home and family life is never 100 per cent the focus of most corporate workers. One ear or one eye is always on the Blackberry or the iPhone or the computer screen, even if only to skim over the cause of the latest ping and decide that it is not in fact urgent and can wait for a response until the following day, or after the holidays.

In order to slow our lives down and mentally de-clutter, we need to chose to physically turn off these devices; to adjust our expectations of others' response times; and to enjoy our experience of the present without being tuned in to a reality that exists elsewhere, whether it be the workplace or another geographic location.

But is that even possible? Or desirable? Tell us what you think.

Oh, and we wish you a happy, but slow, New Year!

*Professor Rob Moodie is chairman of global health at the University of Melbourne's Nossal Institute.

How full is your letterbox?

noreply@blogger.com (Alison) — Wed, 16 Dec 2009 03:45:00 +0000

December heralds for this household a special time - it is the only time of the year that significant amounts of 'personal' mail fill our letterbox. For most of the year, it contains bills, marketing materials and 'official' letters. For a few short weeks a year, there are also handwritten items wishing us seasonal greetings.

But I've noticed a trend. There was once a time when we'd receive around 100 Christmas cards. This year, I reckon we'll be lucky to get 50. I don't think it's that we're less popular than we used to be....I think it's just that less people send cards nowadays.

Before our time, the sending of a handwritten card through the mail was the accepted way to convey greetings and best wishes to family and friends worldwide.

The first commercial Christmas cards were commissioned by Sir Henry Cole in London in 1843. It was not an idea of totally altruistic origins however, as Cole had helped introduce the Penny Post three years earlier. Imagine the boost to the postal services Christmas cards must have provided over the years.

By the latter half of the 19th century, Australia and the United States had followed suit.

Nowadays however, there are many options for sending festive greetings: email, e-cards, text messages, a message on a blog or a Facebook wall. Phone calls are cheaper than they once were.

Some people don't even bother with any of the above.

I am a die-hard card sender, but mine don't always make it out before Christmas. I believe a card is as good in the New Year as it is in the week before Christmas.

Call me old-fashioned, but I love to receive cards from friends and family. I especially love the year-in-review letters and/or photos some people include - there's nothing like catching up on a year's news in a couple of minutes.

It takes time, but the sending of a card sends more than a piece of paper. It tells the recipient that you are thinking of them, and that they are still a valued part of your life whether or not you have had much contact over the previous twelve months or so.

But then again, an email could also send that same message. In these technologically advanced times, are the traditional cards' days numbered?

To card or not to card? That is the question.